Hysterical
by Adeline-Disharmony
Summary: This was a contest entry for Alyss-Hikari on DeviantArt, and I decided to post in on here too! Christophe and Gregory have been on the rocks, and Christophe finally learns the reason why. T for language. Oneshot.


Hey! yet another depressing story from the insane depths of my mind! woot! please enjoy! :3

* * *

Gregory's ears perked up when he heard the door open. He had been waiting for Christophe to arrive home for the better part of the night, with a cup of tea at his desk. He anticipated for Christophe to follow his usual post-mission routine, which consisted of him coming straight into the main room of their house, and flopping down exhaustedly onto the couch, abused by years of dirt and blood being transferred to it via the mercenaries clothing, shoes, skin and hair.

Gregory's heart fell when, for the third time in a row, Christophe went straight to the bedroom that the pair shared.

Gregory decided that he had had enough of being ignored and avoided by Christophe. He pushed his chair away from the desk, not even bothering to push it back in like he usually does, and made his way to the bedroom.

Christophes head turned languidly towards the opened door from his seat on the end of the bed. "Christophe, we need to talk about this" Gregory said, making his way from the doorway to stand next to the bed. "we simply cannot keep on skirting our way around the very obvious problem" He said to the apathetic mercenary dirtying the navy blue comforter clothing the bed.

Christophe ignored his boss' words, instead, choosing his first words to the blonde in days to be "Ze mission was a success."

Gregory was crestfallen by the evident disinterest in his words. Angry, Gregory did something that he rarely did. He grabbed the uncaring mercenary by the arms and yelled at him "I cant read your fucking mind Christophe! You need to tell me what the bloody hell is going on instead of stewing in it and letting it turn you from the man that I love into this emotionless shell!"

"I 'ad a few issues with ze guards, but ze guard dogs deed not make eet out." Christophe said, disregarding the angry Britt's distressed yells and the hands on his arms.

Gregory's grip tightened before he let go completely, and in an uncharacteristic fashion, his hands flew to his hair, mussing the perfect styling. "You've become emotionless! It is only when I am speaking to you about missions that your eyes become anything more than dark circles, the only time that I know that you are truly alive and still somewhere in this hollow shell that you have become. That glimpse of fire in your eyes is the only indication of life that I see in you anymore, and I cannot deal with it!"

Christophe didn't even respond this time. He knew that he was causing pain to the most important thing in his life, but he could not risk possibly hurting his one and only love in the world. His anger had been rising these past days for some unexplainable reason. The only way that Christophe could think of to get rid of the rage that, ignored, would ultimately end in hurting his blonde angel, was to immerse himself in his work. Though, even that method was proving ineffective, instead, his anger steadily climbed whenever the mercenary was near Gregory. This scared Christophe, not that he would ever admit to any fear, to no end. He loved Gregory with every cell in his body, but he could not stand to be near him. The only possible explanation that Christophe could think of was that everything that he had done and endured in his lifetime was catching up to him, and he was finally losing his mind.

"I've told you time and time again that you are the one thing that means anything at all to me in this world, that I would drop anything and everything for you, but this distance is killing me. I feel a hole where my heart should be Christophe, it feels like you have ripped it out of my chest. Please just tell me anything that I can do to put that spark back into your eyes, to get rid of whatever demon that is invading you. I love you, but I cannot feel any love from you where I know there should be love." Gregory pleaded. His hands had traveled from his hair to the work-hardened calloused hands of his beloved mercenary.

Christophes head sank to his hands that he had pulled away from the blondes grip. He stood, leaving his love dejected. "I 'ave another mission." He said as he walked out of the room, shovel on his shoulder.

* * *

Christophe thought about his blonde love the entire car ride to the destination. When he arrived, he immediately sought out a concealed entrance, which he found quickly. When he entered the building, he lifted himself, shovel and all, into an air vent.

Christophe crawled through the ducts, it was completely and totally silent in the tightly enclosed space, but this was a bit of a sanctuary for the mercenary.

All of the sudden, the silence was broken by a voice, the unexpected words gave Christophe a small jolt of panic, thinking he had been caught. The fact that the voice sounded exactly like his own, and the words that it was saying were the only things that made him think otherwise about the possibility that he was caught.

"Gregory, zat greedy leettle bastard will get what 'e deserves, non?" the voice said.

It took a considerable amount of time before Christophe realized that the voice was coming, not from a person, but from his own mind, though it sounded more like someone was talking right next to him than it did a thought.

"What ze fock?" Christophe said in a barely audible whisper. "why ze fock would my mind be saying zees zings?" he asked himself.

The voice spoke again, "'e deserves to die, zat leetle beetch, 'e is using yoo to do all of ze dirty work zat 'e is too 'proper' to do. Yoo do realize zat 'e ees going to leave yoo as soon as yoo are not fit to work any longer, oui?"

Christophe was both severely confused as to why his mind was saying such things about the man that he loves, and angry that it was saying such things. He never ever wanted to hurt Gregory, not in his lifetime.

The voice had apparently heard this thought, "yoo honestly zink zat ze leetle faggot really loves yoo?" it asked incredulously, "yoo know zat 'e manipulates people, and zings, to get what 'e wants, yoo 'ave seen it 'appen, yoo 'ave 'elped 'im do eet, are yoo really so stupid to believe zat 'e would do any differently for yoo?" The voice was taunting him, saying things that would provoke him to do something that he would ultimately regret.

"I am **not **stupid, and 'e ees **not **using me!" Christophe said in a rage. He felt silly afterwards, talking to himself, but the thing that he did not like was that it was virtually himself that was saying these things, and he did not like the fact that he was thinking these things without knowing it. Then the situation finally came into view for him, he at last realized that he **must** be going crazy, no normal people hear voices, telling them that the one that they love is horrible and deserves to die.

"Yoo **are **crazy, Christophe. Eet is zat insufferable beech zat has made yoo zis way. Zis ees just what 'e does, and yoo are no exception, yoor _amour _((1))_, _yoor _coeur _((2)),yoor _**ange**_ ((3)) as yoo so call ze undeserving bastard, ees tricking yoo, only so yoo can be blamed for ze deaths and ze injuries, so zat 'e will get away scot free, and move onto anozer unsuspecting mercenary for 'ire." The voice was getting closer and closer to its goal of provoking Christophe to the point where he would become nothing more than a puppet for the evil voice in his head.

Christophe had been going through the motions of the mission mechanically, he had already escaped the ventilation system, and sneaked through the halls. He needed to take out the anger that he felt towards his own mind on something or _someone_ before he hurt himself. He saw the perfect opportunity for this when he heard footsteps coming from around the corner. With a sadistic, and slightly crazed, grin, he wielded his shovel in preparation to attack. Using his instincts, he calculated the approximate weight of the guard by the volume of the footsteps, and what types of weapons he was wielding, by the sound of the device knocking against his body. The man was smaller than normal, approximately 115 pounds, and wielding nothing more than a standard handgun for night guards at the government building Christophe was invading, and better yet, he was alone.

Christophe swung the shovel out towards the man as soon as he was within reach. He reveled in the snap of bones, but the man was not dead, he was taller than Christophe had expected, and in turn, Christophe had broken a few of his ribs. The man looked up at the shorter mercenary, from his spot on the ground, with a terrified look on his face. Christophe ignored it and with great satisfaction, brought the shovel down on the mans neck at an angle that both broke skin and an artery causing a rush of blood to spill on the floors spreading out into a considerable puddle, and snapped the mans neck. The gruesome sight was enough to relieve the Frenchman's stress, knowing that he was in control of the situation, and that he called the shots when it came to who lived and who died.

The feeling was short-lived though, as Christophe heard, "Good job Christophe, but somezing as seemple as zat will not get rid of me zat easily." The voice mocked. Christophe let out an angry groan and made his way to the storage room. He listened to the voice goad him further, planning different ways to kill his beloved Gregory, as he got the files. He tucked them into his jacket and made his way out of the building. He did not bother with the ventilation system again, rather choosing to take out any guards that got in his way.

Christophe got into his car, and blasted the radio, anything to block the taunting voice. He did not know what he would do about the voice and about Gregory.

The Frenchman came to the conclusion that, given his nature to disregard authority and commands, and his alpha male personality, he would defy the voice, he could not hurt Gregory any longer, and he decided that the voice is just that, simply a voice, that can be ignored if not fully eradicated.

* * *

Christophe was happy with his decision as he arrived home. He walked through the front door, and warily walked through the house to where he assumed Gregory would be. After checking his usual frequents, the bedroom, the main room, and even the restrooms, Christophe finally checked the kitchen. He found a rather discomforting sight, Gregory looked a mess, his hair was disheveled, he had rid himself of his typical orange shirt, leaving him in a white tee shirt, and he had a mug of coffee in front of him.

Gregory looked up at Christophe with tired and acquiescent eyes. Christophe berated himself for being the cause of the pain that Gregory was in, and, surprising the Brit, Christophe enveloped him in a warm embrace.

"_Je suis désolé mon ange, je ne sais pas ce qui m'a pris. Je ne pourrai jamais vous causer tant de douleur à nouveau dans ma vie, je vous le jure. Je t'aime Gregory. Je suis désolé." _((4)).

"It's okay Christophe. Je t'aime aussi ((5))." Gregory replied to the poignant mercenary. He still did not know the reason behind Christophes outburst, but he decided that if he had his love he would be happy, and he would not press. He nuzzled into the embrace, contentedly, wrapping his arms around the dirty and blood stained mercenary.

Christophe was content with Gregory in his arms and it seemed that the voice was not present. He guided both himself and the blonde to the bedroom, happy that he was forgiven.

Gregory and Christophe were both asleep in their bed, when Christophe woke up suddenly with his heart beating fast. He did not know the reason for his startled awakening, and decided to attempt to sleep again, before they had to wake up the next morning. Christophe had just dragged the deep-sleeping blonde angel over towards him and nuzzled back into his comforting pillow when he heard the voice for the first time since he had arrived home. "Eet ees all an act Christophe, 'e set zis all up. 'e still needs to die."

* * *

Thanks so much for reading! The thing that keeps me writing is reviews, even flames! so please do! I love everyone who reads this and virtual cupcakes go to all reviewers! Also, tell me if you think that i should continue or do a sequel or all that shiz.

3

Translations

((1)) Love

((2)) Heart

((3)) Angel

((4)) I'm sorry my angel, I do not know what came over me. I will never cause you so much pain again in my life. I love you. I'm sorry.

((5)) I love you too.


End file.
